Malteasers
by Malty
Summary: A series of Jack/Ianto scenes. Some humour, some angst, some other things too, but all of it about them!


**A/N;** Series of isolated scenes that wouldn't leave me alone, presented to you lovely people; I laughed so hard when I came up with this title I can't even tell you. Forgive me if I'm wrong in thinking Ianto's is the only flat we haven't seen – it's the only one I haven't see anyway! 'Subterfuge', is set during Adrift, starting with the first briefing, and if you haven't seen that episode then it will make no sense.

**Disclaimer;** I don't own Torchwood or it's characters, and I'm intolerant of chocolate so Malteasers ownership is out of the question. Also making no profit, so again Malteasers ownership is out the question.

* * *

**+Duck and Cover+**

The silent treatment was so much worse than the yelling. When Ianto got upset he really went for it; if he got worked up it was because he cared about something, heart and soul. It was part of what Jack loved about him. So to see him quiet, no reaction, meant he didn't care, and if he didn't care what Jack did then he didn't care about Jack, and if he didn't care about Jack..

'Say something.'

Ianto just kept right on regarding him, the slight quirk of his eyebrow conveying what his words wouldn't. _You know what you've done, and until you say the right thing you're getting nothing from me._ But Jack didn't know what the right thing was to say, and he really felt like he might if only he could hear Ianto's voice.

'Say something, throw something!'

_Shouldn't have been so literal_, he thinks as he receives a ballpoint pen to the face for his efforts.

The tug at his lips says that if Ianto weren't maintaining his silence, he'd be laughing.

* * *

**+Echoes+**

Jack's voice echoed in more than one respect. 'I thought you were over her.' Saying it out loud he realised how ridiculous that sounded, and at least had the good grace to hang his head a little.

'So did I.'

Ianto sounded drained. Not surprising, possession did that to a person, and he'd been under for weeks. Jack sat next to him surrounded by the still smoking, charred remains of Tosh' computers. They were damaged by the device they used to drive it out of him. He watched the scene play over in his head, hearing Ianto's voice again.

'Go ahead, kill me just like you killed her!'

_It wasn't Ianto, it wasn't Ianto talking._

Except looking back, Jack was sure he'd looked at the device a second later, and the blue flashing light told him it was already working. He had no way of knowing how long it had been flashing.

Ianto frowned as if trying to figure something out, and when he spoke it sounded as if it was causing him pain. 'It couldn't just act on its own, it wasn't like that. It wasn't control..' He looked up as he seemed to reach a decision. 'It was persuasion.'

Jack shook his head. 'Look you can't blame yourself, that thing was controlling you'

'No, Jack it wasn't..' Ianto shook his head back. He wasn't mad, he was just trying to make Jack understand. 'It needed something to latch on to. That's why it had to be me.'

Jack didn't want to hear what was coming next.

'It needed someone who could hate you.'

Jack didn't know what to say to that, and so they sat in silence.

* * *

**+Subterfuge+**

Ianto POV

_We could just tell her._

Jack says no, and he wasn't putting it on; he really is mad. I'm calm back, it's the only way to deal with him when he's like this. But he doesn't back down, he finishes up, points, actually _points_ at me for emphasis, and storms off. I shrug to cover the idea that's forming, and begin subconsciously working on a plan.

I execute it without any problems, of course, because if you plan things right you won't have any problems.

For instance I didn't plan on staying with Jack tonight, which would be how we encountered the problem of Gwen walking in on us. I make a mental note to stop acting on impulse as they essentially go at it right in front of, in fact right over me. Once that thought's over I consider just how badly I might get injured if I were to physically throw myself off this ledge in order to get away from them, and I'm deciding it's probably an acceptable risk as Gwen drags my name into it.

'Tosh has her projects, so does Ianto.'

Yup thanks Gwen, I wasn't attempting to sprout wings quite hard enough there you just had to call attention to my presence. So remarkably glad I went out of my way to help you.

Jack finishes the argument, of course, and walks away from her the same way he did from me, only this time I'm beckoned to follow. I do, because.. Well, it's Jack, and he asked in _that_ tone – you don't refuse.

I'm so dazed I almost forget to complete the plan, telling Gwen about the package. For a brief second I consider not telling her, given what's just occurred, but I push it to one side, I'm committed now.

Besides, it was never about her, it was always about Jack.

Nobody points at Ianto Jones and gets away with it.

* * *

**+Home+**

It was strange seeing the team members in their own homes; their chosen habitats. Surely they just sprang fully formed into being within the hub?

Owen's was flash, just like him, making an impression one way or another – the direct opposite of his dingy workspace. Tosh' too was big and opulent, surprising for someone so quiet. It couldn't be held against her though; after the time she spent trapped in that cell Tosh deserved to enjoy freedom and space. Gwen's on the other hand was comfortable, practical, none of the grand illusions of the others, (though whose to say that wasn't partially informed by her newbie status to the Torchwood salary). Most importantly though Gwen shared with Rhys – hers was the only space featuring the living breathing influence of another person.

Ianto's influence wasn't living. His flat was distinctly unlived in, signed for simply because it was available when he needed it. It was a flat for one so as not to arouse suspicion; inside it had been filled with the living materials for two people, seeing as Lisa was going to be fine and wouldn't be impressed if she reintegrated into day-to-day life only to find she had nothing to call her own. Her possessions had helped him believe her absence was only temporary. Now she was gone her stuff had eventually had to follow, and the flat, though only modestly sized, simply felt too big without her. He spent more time in the hub with Jack than at home anyway.

Jack was the only one honest enough to accept that the hub was where he belonged.

* * *

**+Heat+**

Ianto is far too tall to be lying across his bed horizontally, but he's also far too tired to move. So tired mentally that when he notices his feet are cold he doesn't possess the cognitive power to climb under the covers, instead he goes for the nearest source of heat, wriggling forwards until his feet are resting against the radiator. He smiles as the warmth spreads through him, relaxing his aching muscles.

His phone rings next to his head and the cognitive power won't stretch to ignoring it, so he automatically answers with his eyes closed. It's Gwen tying up some loose threads from the day. He resigns himself to making agreeable noises until she finishes.

Jack walks over, and when Ianto fails to move he maneuvers his legs until he's standing between them, the only help from Ianto being to place his hijacked foot back against the radiator.

Ianto manages to open his eyes, smiling back as Jack slowly strokes at his ankles, causing him to shift with pleasure.

Gwen's still talking as Jack slides his hands further up Ianto's legs, and she doesn't seem to notice that his murmurings no longer correspond with what she's saying.

Jack pulls himself down, covering Ianto completely.

By the time their lips meet, the phone lies forgotten.

* * *

**A/N;** Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you made of it, or them – I'd maybe turn some of these into real, (well, longer), fics if anyone was interested.. Either way feedback is what I live for so let me know what you thought.


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